


Now, Forever, and Always

by Cozy_The_Overlord



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Denial, F/M, Growing Old, How am I still this bad at tagging?, Loki is a Good Bro (Marvel), Mortality, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Loki (Marvel), Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_The_Overlord/pseuds/Cozy_The_Overlord
Summary: She was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful...But mortal.Loki was determined not to lose her.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/OFC, Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 68





	Now, Forever, and Always

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came from a made-up fic title sent to me by @the-emo-asgardian for an ask game on Tumblr a few weeks ago and has been living rent free in my mind ever since. I don't know why that out of all the nice, happy fic ideas I got out of that game, it was the depressing one I decided I had to write. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

He knew better.

He hadn’t planned on remaining on Earth for any extended period of time. His forced servitude to the Avengers, his _punishment_ —it was a nuisance that he would have to endure for a bit, but like everything else on the planet, it was temporary. Human lives passed with the beat of a heart. They would not hold him for long. Loki only needed to keep his head down and wait.

He knew better than to get involved with a mortal.

In his defense, it hadn’t been something he could have prepared for. At first glance, Madelyn Robbins was hardly anything remarkable. Her role as Stark’s personal assistant kept her in the periphery, the type of person one didn’t notice was in the room until she stepped forward with the answer to their question mere moments after it left their tongue. She was forgettable, unexceptional, a background figure that you weren’t supposed to notice.

But Loki noticed her.

He noticed her intelligence, how easily she picked up on concepts most mortals could never even begin to understand, how she seemed to remember anything and everything she heard and saw. He noticed her focus, how she was able to filter through the chaos of the Tower and retrieve the information she needed without ever having to raise her voice. And he noticed her boldness.

The first time he spoke with her was a week or two after he had first joined the Avengers, back when it seemed there was not one employee in the whole building with enough backbone to look him in the eye. Loki told himself it was fine with him. It wasn’t as if he was interested in making friends with any of them. He had been reading in one of the common areas when he noticed her standing over his chair, waiting expectantly.

He frowned. “Pardon?”

Madelyn’s smile didn’t waver. “I said Mr. Stark’s sending me out on a coffee run,” she said, clutching her tablet to her gray blazer. “I was wondering if you wanted anything.”

Loki glared up at her coldly, out of instinct more than anything else. “I do not drink coffee.” He had expected her to cower, but she only laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she nodded as she turned to leave. “But I just wanted to make sure.” Loki had watched as she made her way across the room to where Thor was talking with two agents he didn’t recognize. He didn’t hear what they said, but her musical laugh carried over his brother’s booming voice. When he turned back to his book, he found himself reading the same page over and over again.

She didn’t ask him for his coffee order again. Loki should have been pleased with that—she got the hint, she wasn’t trying to bother him—but as he watched her make the rounds with the other Avengers, joking together as she balanced the plastic cups on her tray, he felt only disappointment.

He started watching her from afar without really realizing he was doing it: during briefings, in the lab, at Stark’s godforsaken “teambuilding exercises”—she was always there, standing in the background, waiting to jump into action the moment someone needed something. She was quiet, but not a shy sort of quiet—she’d dive into conversation with anyone who gave her the opportunity to do so. No, Madelyn was a professional quiet. Loki found himself wondering what she was like outside the Tower, beyond the boundaries of her employment.

She was notoriously private about her personal life. Stark would tease her about it often, asking her loaded questions everyone knew she wouldn’t answer.

“You don’t mind staying late tonight, do you?” he’d smirk. “You won’t be keeping anyone waiting up, right?”

Loki would have been driven mad by such interrogation, but Madelyn always laughed it off. “I’ll worry about that, Mr. Stark. You just stick to your robots.”

Perhaps this was why it was treated as such a shocking turn of events when Thor announced that he had _seen_ Madelyn’s boyfriend.

“It was in front of the building, on the street. They were _embracing_.” His brother seemed unreasonably proud to be the one to break the news to everyone. “He was tall, light-haired. Very handsome. I’d say they looked to be _very_ much in love!”

As the others tittered over this gossip, Loki slunk from the room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Madelyn was clever, kind, attractive—of course she had a lover. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if it affected him. Still, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

What kind of man would she love, he wondered? Someone gentle, probably. Someone who she could sit down and talk to knowing he was genuinely listening. Someone who would respect her choices and trust her decisions. Someone who could make her laugh—Madelyn loved to laugh. It seemed she was always giggling at something someone said, hiding her mouth behind her palm as her eyes sparkled with mirth. It was rather adorable. He had made her laugh before, once when Stark and Rodgers were arguing over some inconsequential thing. Loki didn’t even remember what it was he said; he had just rolled his eyes and made some dry remark, and Madelyn ducked her head into her hands as she chortled. When he turned towards her, she was smiling brightly at him. He found he was smiling too.

It was stupid, but Loki didn’t like the idea of anyone else making her smile like that.

The other Avengers didn’t seem to mind, and to Loki’s chagrin the mystery man remained a hot topic of conversation for the next several months. He couldn’t look at her without Thor’s words bleeding through his ears like poison in his mind: _“I’d say they looked to be very much in love!”_

Loki was thinking about it the day before New Year’s Eve, when Madelyn joined him in the elevator as he was returning to his rooms with her usual cheerful greeting. He nodded his hello. For a moment, they only stood in silence, but soon enough she turned to him.

“Are you going to Mr. Stark’s party tomorrow?” she asked.

Ah, yes. Stark’s infamous New Year’s celebration. Loki thought that he would prefer the scorching heat of a Muspelheim prison to spending the night with a skyscraper full of drunken mortals who despised his very existence, but Thor had made it clear that he had little choice in the matter.

“I’ve been told that I will be in attendance, whether I like it or not.” Madelyn chuckled, and Loki felt that familiar warmth rising in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Are you going?”

“Yeah, I guess. It would look bad if I didn’t,” she sighed wistfully. “I don’t know, I just always feel like such a loser showing up to these things alone.”

Loki frowned. Surely, attending alone was not her only option. “Your boyfriend is not accompanying you?”

Madelyn cocked her head, giving him a strange look. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said slowly.

For a moment Loki thought he was hearing things. “You don’t?” he repeated.

She shook her head, frowning. “Why did you think that?”

His mind was racing. “Thor—he said he saw you embracing someone in front of the building.”

“What!” she cried. “When?”

He told her the whole story, repeating his brother’s tale practically word for word in bewildered confusion. By the end, she was laughing incredulously.

“That was Dave!” she choked. “My brother-in-law, Dave! I left my purse in my apartment, and I needed my ID to get into the Tower. He was just dropping it off for me. Did everyone think we were a thing? Oh, that’s hilarious!”

She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve as Loki stared in disbelief. For so long, he had buried his thoughts under the belief that she was taken, that even if he allowed himself to want her she could never be his. This revelation seemed unthinkable.

“You’re not seeing anyone?” he asked.

“No!” She was still laughing as she shook her head. “I’ve been single for the past two years.”

“Oh.” Loki swallowed. He knew he should have left it there. She was mortal. She was temporary. Indulging the wild longing in his chest would only lead to more suffering. He knew better.

And yet he didn’t.

“Well, in that case,” Loki inhaled. There was a tremble in his voice— _where had that come from?_ —that he hoped she didn’t notice. “Perhaps you would honor me with your company at the party tomorrow night?”

Madelyn turned back towards him “Are—are you asking me out?”

He burned. “I believe that’s the proper phrase.” _This was a terrible idea._

But she didn’t appear to be offended. Rather, she sounded … confused. “Really?” she asked. “I just—I didn’t think you liked anybody here.”

“I like you.” He did, he realized, although it was strange to admit out loud. The simple truth was that the room lit up whenever she entered, and he lit up with it.

“Really?” Madelyn whispered. He nodded. “Well,” she said, a soft smile breaking out across her lips, “I like you too. And I’d love to go with you tomorrow night.”

Something bloomed in his chest, something lovely and wonderful and warm. He loved the way she smiled.

“Excellent,” he said, fighting to keep his elated grin from seeming too over-eager. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

It was scandalous, to be sure, when they walked onto the penthouse floor arm in arm on New Year’s Eve. It seemed the whole room fell quiet for a moment. In the back, Stark nearly choked on his drink.

Madelyn didn’t seem to mind. She pulled him through the hordes of people, the voluminous skirt of her dress swirling around her in an emerald sea. He didn’t know where she had managed to find a gown that so flawlessly matched his colors on such short notice, or how she had even known to look for one in that shade, but it was perfect.

She was perfect.

Stark’s holiday celebrations were always an adventure—they weren’t quite up to par with the unhinged chaos of Asgardian feasts, but they usually were hectic enough to keep Loki looking over his shoulder the entire time, half expecting to find some demon from his past lurking amidst the drunken partygoers. That night though, there was only Madelyn. She pulled him through the madness with the easy assurance of an expert, gliding with him across the dance floor as if they owned it. She knew all the nooks and crannies, all the little alcoves to which they could retreat when they wished to break from the noise to talk.

They talked a lot. She told him about her family, about her mother who went around telling all her brunch friends that her daughter worked alongside the Avengers for a living (“she leaves out the fact that I’m basically a glorified intern”), about her older sister who gave up her dreams of Hollywood to settle down with her high school sweetheart.

“He’s the one who dropped off your purse?” Loki interrupted as they sat at a bench against the wall on the balcony, overlooking the festivities below.

Madelyn laughed. “Yeah, Dave. He _is_ a sweetheart.” She shook her head, still chuckling. “I can’t believe you guys thought he was my boyfriend. That’s so funny to me.”

“Well, my brother does have a tendency to jump to conclusions,” Loki sighed, watching Thor and his crowd of inebriated fools attempting to take shots off of Mjolnir’s handle. He turned back to his lady. “But you can’t place all the blame on him. We all knew next to nothing about your personal life. How was he to know better?”

“True,” she mused. “I like to keep an air of mystery at work. It keeps people interested.”

“Oh?” Loki raised his eyebrows. “If that’s the case, then why have you dropped the mystery with me?”

She scowled at him with mock outrage. “Am I not interesting enough for you, Asgardian?”

Laughing, he pulled back on to the dance floor.

It was fitting that the party marked the beginning of the New Year, because afterwards everything changed. It had been a while since Loki had courted anyone, and of course Midgardian “dating” was a bit different, but it brough a levity to his life that he hadn’t realized he needed. On the surface, it didn’t even seem that drastic a shift. Sometimes, it was as simple as a glance from her across a crowded room, that warm smile meant just for him, and suddenly the whole world lit up. Stark groaned that the two of them making heart eyes at each other all day made him sick, but Loki couldn’t care less. For once, life didn’t seem quite so wretched.

At first, they only spent time together within the Tower—after all, Loki was confined to SHIELD’s surveillance. He was rather ashamed of it, ashamed that he wasn’t able to take her out and show her a good time the way she deserved, but Madelyn insisted that she didn’t mind. She’d pick up sandwiches at a bakery down the street and they’d have dinner in his rooms while watching a movie.

He had to laugh—Madelyn had a list of film she claimed were a critical part of Midgardian culture that he just _had_ to see, but inevitably they’d turn it on and spend the entire time talking over it about a subject only tangentially related. He didn’t mind though, and Madelyn didn’t seem to either—she’d rest her head on his shoulder and tell him all the differences between the film and the book which it was inspired by, and he’d wrap his arm around her shoulder and hang on to every word.

The first time she stayed the night had actually been an accident. It seemed that they both had miscalculated how tired they were after a week of wild missions and had fallen asleep together whilst cuddling on the couch. Loki woke up with the gentle pressure of her head on his chest and the warmth of her in his arms. He was smiling before he was even fully awake.

After a while, he began finding ways to sneak out of the Tower and meet her elsewhere. Her tiny apartment became the center of his world. He’d meet her for coffee or for dinner or just for a walk, and she’d take him home with her, so often that she stopped asking him if he wanted to come in. It was a peaceful kind of domestic that Loki had never thought to dream about. Madelyn was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful, everything he could ever want. Sometimes, he almost forgot that she wasn’t Asgardian.

Her mortality would rear its head in other ways, though. One day, she tripped walking down the stairs as they were leaving her apartment building, tumbling to the ground before Loki could catch her. It wasn’t a bad fall, and Madelyn had scrambled back to her feet in seconds insisting she was fine, but her ankle had swollen up almost immediately. When she tried to take another step, she almost fell over again.

This time, Loki scooped her up into his arms. “Fragile little thing,” he teased, carrying her down the steps to a nearby bench.

They had laughed about it, but a week later Madelyn was still walking with a limp.

One night, he awoke with a start, sweating and shaking and gasping for air as Madelyn hovered over him anxiously.

“It’s a dream!” she was crying. “Loki, it’s not real!”

The bed was too hot. Loki ripped himself from the covers, hunching over the side as he struggled to catch his breath. Madelyn followed, rubbing his back soothingly as he fought to control the trembling in his hands. For a moment, the room was silent but for his labored breathing.

“Are you okay?” she finally whispered.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“You were crying in your sleep.”

Must have woken her up then. He tried to swallow, but his mouth tasted like sandpaper. “I’m sorry.”

Madelyn shook her head. “No, it’s fine! I was just worried.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Loki inhaled. “It was just a dream. No matter.” Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him in concern. When he moved to lie back down, she laid next to him, a protective arm around his torso.

“You’re safe here, okay?” she whispered. “Nothing can happen to us here.” Loki didn’t answer, only staring at the ceiling.

For once, it hadn’t been about him.

No, he had dreamed of Madelyn, stiff in a hospital bed, her cheeks hollowed and gaunt, her once vibrant hair now a thinned and faded halo on the pillow beneath her head. Her wrinkled skin sagged with the weight of infirmity. Her clasped hands rose and fell with her chest as the death rattle stained her wilted lips.

Loki tried to forget about it, but the image was seared into his memory. He couldn’t look at Madelyn without picturing her face caving into a haggard old woman choking on her last breath. It would happen soon, he realized, horrifically soon. Mortals had a hundred years if they were lucky, less if they weren’t. He spent sleepless nights lying awake in bed, listening to Madelyn’s steady breathing in the dark. 100 years—that was nothing. That was a blink of an eye, a beat of his heart, and then she’d be gone.

He couldn’t bear to think of it.

There was a story, he remembered suddenly on one such torturous night, a story his mother used to tell to him and his brother when they were small, about a goddess with magical apples that could grant immortality to those who tasted them. It was probably nothing, just a childish bedtime tale, but once it flitted into his mind Loki couldn’t get it out. After all, didn’t most legends have some basis in fact?

It was a myth on Midgard, too. He found it within moments when he looked it up—the story of Idunn’s apples. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. The human versions of Asgardian history had a tendency to be quite muddled. But … it was an idea. There had to be something, some way to extend a mortal lifespan. Without telling anyone, Loki began devoting his free time to research.

They had been together for several months when Loki decided to take Madelyn to Asgard for the first time. Frigga had extended her invitation to her a bit prior, but accepting hadn’t been an easy decision. He had watched Thor take Jane home many times over since he began his stint with the Avengers. He had seen firsthand how Asgardians looked upon mortals in their midst, even when the mortal in question were on the arm of their golden prince. He couldn’t imagine that Madelyn could expect any better treatment— in fact, given his reputation, it seemed safe to assume that she could expect worse. 

But in the end, they decided to go. Madelyn was excited—her first time traveling off world— and Loki was eager to introduce her to his mother, who he knew would just absolutely adore her.

Secretly, he was also hoping that she would be able to help him with granting Madelyn immortality.

His mortal lover was a bit overwhelmed at first by their trip to the Golden City. 

“I think I’m going to be sick” she whispered, clutching his wrist so tightly it almost hurt as they stepped off the Bifrost, and for a moment Loki feared that the visit had been a mistake. But she recovered quickly, and soon curiosity bubbled over her anxiety.

“What’s this made of?” she asked, wide eyes staring at the bridge beneath their feet as he helped her mount his horse. “Is it some kind of crystal? How does it work?” He couldn’t help but laugh as he climbed on behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck before spurring on his stead.

As to be expected, his mother took Madelyn under her wing immediately, greeting her with an embrace before swooping her away to help her unpack and dress for dinner. 

Unfortunately, she was less helpful when Loki approached her later about his search.

“Oh Loki,” she sighed when he asked if she knew of any way to extend a human lifespan. “That’s the quandary of becoming entangled with mortals. Their lives are fleeting. You have to be able to accept that.”

_No_. Loki shook his head fiercely. “There must be some way,” he insisted. “The stories you’d tell us as children, Idunn’s apples—“

“Those were _stories_ , my son.” He hated the pity in her eyes as she studied him. “She is mortal. She will grow old, and she will die. It’s the way of things.” Frigga took his hand in hers. “Enjoy the time you have with her. Don’t waste her life trying to save it.”

He ripped his arm from her. “ _That’s not good enough!_ ”

She inhaled, holding the bridge of her nose. “You could ask your father,” she finally offered. “He may know something I don’t.”

Loki huffed in resignation.

When he brought forth his question before the AllFather, he had known Odin would never take it seriously. Still, he found himself tasting blood as his father’s ragged laughter echoed across the empty throne room. 

“Is this the reason why you brought her here, then?” he asked. “You seek a cure for inferiority?”

“I seek to expand my lady’s lifespan,” he said, struggling to maintain his even tone. “She has no inferiority to cure.”

“Your lady,” he mocked. “Your lady, who you might snap in half with a wayward flick of your wrist. Would you not call that inferiority?”

Loki held his tongue. Try as he might to ignore it, there was truth to Odin’s words and he hated him for it.

“I seek to expand her lifespan,” he repeated. “Do you know of any method do do so?”

His father raised his eyebrows. “Unlike my sons, I’m not in the habit of keeping mortal pets.”

Loki seethed. “She is not a pet!”

“Your time on Midgard has made you as childish as your brother.” Odin shook his head, leaning back in his golden throne. “The mortal’s life is fleeting, insignificant. You would waste your time and mine trying to raise a dog to godhood.”

“She’s not a dog!” he snapped. “She’s not a dog, she’s not a pet, she’s my love and her name is Madelyn.”

“And in a century, she’ll be dust!” the king retorted. “Will it matter then what name marks her headstone?”

Loki stormed out. 

It was pathetic, _pathetic_ , that his father’s words still cut him so deeply, that his inconsequential views could still send him running with tears burning in his eyes like a slighted child. He stomped through the palace halls with no real destination in mind, heaving like some kind of animal. 

He’d show him. He’d show them both. He’d find a way to save her. Somehow, he’d find a way to make her immortal, and then they’d see. They’d see.

He was shaking uncontrollably by the time he found Madelyn in the gardens, gathered in the middle of the brick pathways with Frigga and several of her ladies. It was strange— swathed in an Asgardian gown, with her hair done up in the latest fashion, one would never have known she was of Midgard. 

She turned as Loki approached, her eyes lighting up as they always did whenever they landed on his. However, her gaze turned to a frown as he got closer.

“Loki, what’s wro—“ he planted his lips on hers before she could finish, cradling her face in his palms as he drank in her smell. Madelyn stiffened at first, but in moments she had melted into the kiss even as the court ladies tittered around them. 

When they finally pulled away, she let out a flustered giggle. “What was that for?”

He studied her face, her sparkling eyes that seemed to hold whole galaxies, entranced. “I love you.”

Loki had never said the words before, not to her or any other woman, and yet they flowed from his lips as easily as a downhill stream. Madelyn’s breath hitched.

“What?” she breathed. 

“I love you,” he repeated, his heart glowing with all the confidence in the universe, and he kissed her again.

When they returned to Earth, Loki threw himself back into his research with a new ferocity. He scoured the history of the Nine Realms, seeking just the slightest hint that what he was searching for existed. The myth of Idunn’s apples was a recurring subject, and he tried frantically to trace it to reality, but unfortunately, his mother’s assertion that it was naught but a child’s bedtime story appeared to be true. He couldn’t find any proof of them actually existing. Still, he spent nights at his desk, hunched over the scrolls Frigga sent him from the palace library, praying for something that continued to elude him.

Madelyn, unconcerned with her impending mortality, fretted he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

“Just come to bed,” she pleaded with him one night. “Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t need as much rest as you do, love. I think I’ll be fine.”

“But you stay up all night, and then they send you into the field in the morning!” she insisted, rubbing his shoulder. “That can’t be safe.”

He covered her hand with his own, gently stroking her knuckles. It never ceased to amaze him how soft her skin was. “You don’t need to worry about me, darling.”

But Madelyn was right, as always. He wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, and it was beginning to affect his reflexes. It was only a matter of time before it all came to a head.

In Loki’s defense, it wasn’t entirely his fault. The mission had been flawed to begin with, everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong, and Loki had ended up trapped in an underground Hydra base with no backup, no escape plan, and hordes of enemy agents closing in. Still, it was manageable—far from ideal, but manageable— until he miscalculated a dagger throw and hit one of their Tesseract-powered devices.

_Shit—_

He felt the blast more than he saw it, felt the burst of scorching heat that flooded the hall and ripped the air from his lungs. His vision burned bright white.

_Huh_ , he remembered thinking, _perhaps Madelyn and I will have closer lifespans after all._

She was the first thing he saw when he awoke, head buzzing and limbs too leaden to move. He opened his aching eyes and she was there, glowing in the light of the hospital room, his guardian angel watching over him through the night. When he croaked her name, her eyes swam with relief. She reached out to stroke his cheek, the chill of her fingers soothing against his feverish skin. He melted against her touch. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

“Madelyn,” he gasped. “Madelyn, marry me.”

He passed out before he could hear her answer.

They were wed on Alfheim, atop a picturesque cove overlooking the gardens of Ljosalfgard. Madelyn was absolutely radiant, her silver gown bathing her in a pearly glow as she practically sang her vows to him. Loki drowned in her eyes, drowned in the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they were both out of breath. He could have almost ignored the vow "til death do us part" had it not been for the pitied glance the Elvish officiants exchanged as she said them.

"I'm going to find a way to save you," he whispered against her hair that night as he held her to his bare chest.

Madelyn shifted, craning her neck so that she could fix him with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

A wayward strand of hair clung to her forehead. Loki pushed it away absentmindedly.

"Death will not part us, my love. I swear it."

She sighed. "Don't think about stuff like that. Not tonight." She leaned back against him, covering his hand with hers as she drifted off to sleep.

Loki didn't say anything.

Stark bought them a house in Upstate New York as a wedding present—a sweet, cozy little place not too far away from the new Avengers base. It was quiet, secluded, peaceful, everything he could have ever asked for.

If only he hadn’t known it was temporary.

Madelyn didn’t understand. She’d get up in the morning to find Loki pouring over his scrolls at the kitchen table, having never come to bed at all, and scold him for not taking better care of himself.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped. “You’re going to kill yourself over this wild goose chase!”

“I have to!” he insisted. “I have to find a way to save you!”

She sighed. “You don’t need to save me.” Kneeling besides him, she took his face in her hands. “Don’t you see? I don’t care how long my life is, as long as I get to spend it with you.” Loki closed his eyes as he leaned into her palm, covering the back of her hand with his own. It was so simple for her. She didn’t understand how the image of her decaying features haunted his every waking moment.

They had been husband and wife for quite some time when he finally found something—a lead that might have the capability to save her from her ephemerality. Loki was ecstatic, more hopeful than he had been in years as he prepared to make the journey across the galaxy. Madelyn was less so.

“Look,” she worried as she watched race about the house packing a bag. “I’m glad that you’re so happy, but is this really worth the trip?”

“How could it not be?” he asked. “Once I return, you will finally be immortal, as you deserve. We will be able to live out our lives together forever.” Loki glanced up at her. “Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I want that, Loki!” Madelyn cried. “But more than that, I want _you_ , here, safe. You don’t know what you’re walking into. You can’t even know how long you’ll be gone! What if something happens to you?”

He laughed softly. “You need not fear for me, my love. I will always return to you.”

Still, she remained unsoothed. “Please,” she said. “If you have to go, let me come with you. We’ll stay together!”

“No. It’s far too dangerous for you.” The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ll not allow the Norns to take you from me as I attempt to save you.”

“Loki …”

“Darling.” He kissed her, relishing the way she melted against him. “All will be well. I swear it.”

But all was not well. Months of searching in the very corners of deep space brought him nowhere, his false hopes dashed across the barren landscape of the planet her salvation. The scrolls had been wrong. There was nothing.

At first, Loki stayed out there, still frantically searching for something that could save her. He had promised, _sworn_ , to her that he would find a way. He couldn’t return home empty handed. And so for a while longer he remained on the edges of space, traveling from planet to remote planet as he fought to find even the slightest hint of the solution he sought. But the time away weighed heavily on his soul. He missed Madelyn—he missed the curve of her smile, the melody of her laugh, the way she never seemed to tire of listening to what he had to say. He missed waking up to the comforting pressure of her head on his chest. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had barely made it up the driveway before Madelyn had thrown her arms around him, clinging him so tightly that he almost couldn’t breathe even as her tiny body shook with her tears. Loki tugged her closer, burying his face in her neck. She smelled like home.

Still, something held him from smiling when they finally pulled away.

“I failed,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I failed you, Madelyn.”

She shook her head, cupping his face with her hands. “You’re back,” she said sternly, “You’re back and you’re safe and that’s all I will ever care about.”

Loki hadn’t realized how long he had been gone until he returned. Madelyn was the same gorgeous creature he had always known, but he began to pick up on miniscule differences within her. She was thinner, her face more worn than when he remembered. He found himself repeating the same tales to her over and over again—she’d ask him questions about his journey, he would answer them, they’d talk about his answers until she was satisfied … and then she’d ask the same question a few days later as if she had never spoken it before. It frightened him.

At first, he would point it out to her, his fear manifesting in frustrated questions: “Didn’t I already tell you all this?” But he hated the way she flinched, how her face would fall as she murmured apologetically that she must have forgotten. He hated feeling as if he was causing her pain. So, Loki repeated his anecdotes and kept his worries to himself.

He feared for her physical health as well. Her hands had become stiff and swollen since he had seen her last, painful to the point that she now took prescribed medication to help her cope. On some days, it seemed hardly noticeable, but on others she could barely bend her fingers. Still, Madelyn insisted that it was fine.

“It’s no big deal,” she told him. “My mom had arthritis, I knew I was probably going to get it eventually.” With a dry laugh, she added, “I’m probably lucky—she always had it much worse than this.”

Madelyn’s mother had passed away while he was gone, the victim of the horrible human disease known as cancer. Madelyn didn’t speak much about it, not even to him. Loki felt guilty—he had unknowingly her left alone and without support in a time when she had probably needed it the most. He was also increasingly anxious—if Madelyn had already inherited one disease from her mother, who’s to say she wouldn’t also develop the far more deadly one? Loki found himself returning to his research.

It wasn’t until he started on the texts Thor had gifted him from his own travels that he thought he found something. A necklace of myth, purported to be held deep within the twisted forests of Terma, enchanted to bring eternal life to those who wear it about their neck. Loki arranged to leave for it immediately.

However, his wife put her foot down. “You’re not going again.”

Loki sighed. “I have to. Madelyn, there’s a chance that this could work—”

“That’s what you said last time!”

“I know. But I have to try.”

“ _Why?_ ” she demanded, tone verging on hysterical.

He turned around incredulously. _Why?_ “Because I love you!”

“No you don’t!” The walls rattled with the weight of her words. It was only then that Loki realized his wife was crying. His eyes widened in horror. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t keep _leaving_.” Her voice cracked, her breath coming in unsteady hiccups. “You were gone for so _long_. I didn’t know if you were okay, or if you were coming back—I was so _scared_ —”

Loki pulled her into his arms, where she sobbed freely against his chest. It was as if someone had stuck a dagger in his gut. Everything he had done, every action he had taken—it had all been for Madelyn. That’s all he ever wanted, to protect Madelyn! And yet, it seemed he had caused her more pain than the forces of nature he sought to protect her from.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair as he held her to his chest. His vision prickled with tears of his own. “I won’t leave again, I promise. I’m so sorry, my love.”

He resolved to be strong. He would not think of what the future held; he would keep his mind in the here and now, safe and warm with his perfect wife at his side. And so he did, for a time. He’d read poetry to her out loud as she rested her head on his lap, telling himself that he was only imagining that the creases in her face seemed to be deepening with every passing day. Some nights, they’d join the others for dinner at the Avengers base, where the conversation would inevitably devolve into Barton and Stark arguing over who had the more accomplished grandchildren and Madelyn would doze off against his shoulder on the way home. There was a steady sort of domesticity to it, and Loki enjoyed it—he enjoyed every moment with her—but he could only ignore time’s dark specter for so long.

It reared its ugly head in the form of a bottle under the sink. When Loki had first found it, he had only been confused, but when he presented it to Madelyn, she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“It’s hair dye,” she finally admitted. “I’ve been using it for a few years now.”

Loki didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? Your hair color hasn’t changed.”

Her laugh was soft and tinged with sadness. “I went gray a while ago, sweetheart. I’ve been dying it my natural color.”

It was as if someone had ripped the air from his lungs. “Wh—” _A few years?_ He gulped. “Why would you do that?”

“I—” Madelyn seemed ashamed. “I was afraid it would upset you. You’ve always been so worried about me, you know—” she inhaled sharply. “I was afraid you’d leave again.”

The heartbreak in her voice was killing him.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” he assured her, reaching out to pull her closer. “I promised, remember?”

She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest. “I do remember that, at least.” Loki laughed as he held her close, but inwardly his mind was racing.

He was running out of time.

This time, when he returned to his research, he did so in secret. Madelyn was suffering enough—he didn’t want to contribute to her pain. At one point, keeping her in the dark about his activities would have been difficult, back when she caught every little shift in his personality, but these days she didn’t seem to notice as much. Still, Loki couldn’t spend whole nights at his work the way he used to. Madelyn slept lightly, often waking up in the darkness to a fit of hacking and gasping for air. He’d be at her side in a second, glass of water in hand and notes abandoned.

“Sorry … for waking you up,” she’d wheeze. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” he’d choke.

But one night, she caught him. It was chillier than usual, and he had moved from his desk to the living room and the fireplace. The crackling of the flames masked the padding of her feet down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped. Madelyn was standing in the hallway, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against the doorframe for support. Her eyes seemed to glow in the light of the fire.

“I—” He didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps that was enough of a response. She sighed, hobbling forward on unsteady legs. Loki rushed forward to support her. “Darling, you shouldn’t be up.”

“No.” She gripped his wrist, nodding towards the couch. “Sit with me. Hold me.” Her expression left no room for argument. He wasn’t certain he wanted to argue with her anyway. Loki scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the room, surprised by how little effort it took him. Madelyn had always been light, but it seemed she had become even more so since he had last picked her up. He found himself thinking about the first time he had carried her, when she twisted her ankle on the steps of her apartment. It felt like just yesterday that he had held her in his arms as he teased her for her mortal fragility. For Madelyn, he realized with a start, it had been a lifetime ago.

He sat on the couch before the fire, still holding her in his lap. She fixed him with a stern glare.

“You said you were done with this.”

As words failed him, Loki let out a pained breath. “It’s you,” he whispered finally. “I can’t—I can’t just give up on you.”

“It’s not giving up.” She reached out to stroke his cheek with wrinkled fingers. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Loki, I’m old. I’m going to die, soon rather than later. That’s not something anybody can change. Not even you.”

He wished he could accuse her of lying, that he could stand up and prove how she was wrong, how he could stop time’s work. Instead, tears blurred his vision when he opened his eyes. “I can’t lose you.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re not losing me! I’m right here. With you. Now, forever, and always.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaning her head against his. “I love you, Loki.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you too. So much.”

The fire had gone out when he awoke in the morning. She was still in his lap, at rest and peaceful.

“Madelyn?”

She didn’t move.

Loki brushed his fingers across her cheek. Her skin was cold.

His voice broke. “ _Madelyn_.”

But Madelyn only lay against him, still and silent and perfect as could be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my Tumblr (@cozy-the-overlord)!


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